Different
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When the others shut their eyes, I kept mine open.
I thought about what it would be like to be minuscule, to climb on the statues in church.
I thought about what could happen to make me stop kneeling.
I always knew I was
different.
When my teachers told me that the bread was truly Him, I just looked that over.
I thought about why the age of reason was so young.
I thought about why the other girls in my grade were so mean.
I didn't think I was that
different.
When my nana was so excited about me getting confirmed, I was just dreading the two hour classes.
In class, I thought about what they said was real, and how I thought it was fiction.
I thought about what would happen if I told my parents I wasn't so sure about really joining the church.
But I didn't want people to think I was
different.
When that time came, I knew I had to look at high schools.
I thought about why I was so sad all the time, about why my parents didn't like me anymore.
I thought about why the public schools in my area were so bad.
But at that point, I wanted to be
different.
When I chose my school, I didn't realize their emphasis on religion.
I thought about how I'd always just accepted Jesus as my savior.
I thought about how everyone was so quick to judge a non Catholic.
All over again
I felt
different.
When I realized I couldn't keep my mouth shut, I fought.
I thought about how I was so angry at God for taking away my friend.
I thought about how the girls praying in front of the abortion center had no room to judge.
I was just so
different.
When I finally realized that I had never felt God before, I became sad.
I thought about how it was just my luck that He had never sent a sign that He cared.
I thought about how I wanted Him to go to Hell for making me so different. Making me gay, making me depressed.
Not that many people liked me;
Probably because I was
different.
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When I got to my lowest point, I knew I had to change.
I thought about how I needed to believe in myself, and not a man that I do not know.
I thought about all the reasons there are to live, without a 3000 year old book telling me the rules.
I was okay with being
different
When people ask me why I go to a Catholic school still, I tell them that I value my education.
I think about all the wonderful relationships I've formed, all the teachers that have cared about me no matter what my faith.
I think about all the great Christians I've met, all the Bible trivia I've learned.
I like being
different.
It makes me who I am.
And if there is a God above
I hope He likes me, too.
Comments
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Kyla1
I was looking around where I live, and I found your poem. Did you, by any chance at all, go to
Our Lady of Hope? I went there too, and I really, really connected with this poem because I felt the same way.
I know you wrote this poem a few years ago, but I just wanted to say that I went through the same thing.
Sorry if I bothered you.